


Clumsy

by supernaturallylost



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, dean and cas are probably 16 ish and sam is probably 13, future dean/cas implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3656235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturallylost/pseuds/supernaturallylost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is used to skipping study hall to go patch up Dean, who gets into more fights than anyone he's ever known. One day, however, Dean learns what it feels like to be the one caring for wounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clumsy

“You know, purple is the color of royalty,” Cas said as he placed a warm towel against Dean’s head. “Only monarchs and nobles were allowed to wear that color back in the day.”

Dean snorted, “You’re such a history nerd.”

Cas smiled smartly. Gently, he pressed the towel onto each of Dean’s bruises.

“What happened this time?” he asked quietly.

Dean took a deep breath, which turned into a very long, dramatic sigh. Finally, he answered, “Some punk was beating on Sam for accidentally knocking his books over when he was with his girlfriend.”

“Really?” Cas frowned.  “I’ve seen Sam win over you quite a few times. Shouldn’t he have been able to defend himself?”

“He can,” Dean nodded, “but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.”

Cas sighed. “Well, you could just let him make his own choices. You don’t have to jump in every time someone wants to beat him up. Maybe if you don’t show up last minute, Sam would snap and finally fight back.”

Before Dean jumped up and out of Cas’ reach, Cas noticed the bright flash in Dean’s eyes. He’d already leaned back before Dean moved out of the way and began shouting.

“I’m not going to let someone use my little brother for a punching bag!” Dean yelled. “How could you say that?”

Cas lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Biting his lip, Dean considered walking away. When he felt the sting of his head, however, he begrudgingly sat back down and allowed Cas to minister to his wounds.

“I just want you to be safe,” Cas whispered, “that’s all.”

Dean nodded and closed his eyes. “I know,” he whispered.

 

Later that day, Sam, Dean, and Cas were standing just inside the Winchesters’ living room.

“Sorry, Dean,” Sam mumbled with downcast eyes.

Cas watched Dean’s expression carefully. Dean’s emerald eyes dimmed, his frown softened, and his hands unclenched.

“Sam,” he spoke quietly, “just be careful, okay? If you get into a fight, next time you need to fight back.”

Dean waited for Sam to nod reluctantly before he walked over to Cas.

“Are you ready to go home?” Dean asked.

Cas bit his lip. He’d intruded on the Winchesters’ day long enough, so he nodded and allowed Dean to walk him down the street to his own home.

 

A week passed. Cas and Dean were at their usual spot – the picnic table off to the side of the school building. Classes were going on already, but Dean and Cas always skipped their study hall. As usual, Cas was holding antibacterial gel and warm water to Dean’s various wounds from the day. Although normally he would take this time to lecture Dean on being safer, today he was strangely silent.

“Aren’t you really warm in that?” Dean asked when he nodded to Cas’ long sleeves. “It’s like, eighty degrees out.”

Cas simply shook his head.

“Oh, guess what, Cas?” Dean smiled obliviously. “I was reading up on different colors and their meanings and I learned that in some ancient Asian cultures, green was the color of royalty. Remember how you said purple was royal?”

Dean grinned triumphantly for remembering their past conversation. Cas, however, only nodded as an answer.

“Okay, man, what’s wrong?”

Cas looked up. Immediately, Dean recognized the tearful eyes of someone afraid. Dean reached out and pulled Cas’ hands from his face before leaning down to inspect Cas for any obvious signs of illness.

“What’s wrong, Cas?”

Cas tried to smile. “It’s nothing, really,” he whispered.

Dean shook his head. When he spoke, the words were surprisingly harsh.

“Don’t do that. Don’t smile and pretend you’re fine. Tell me what’s wrong, Cas.”

After a deep breath, Cas lifted one of his sleeves. There was a very large red, yellow, purple, green splotch running all along his forearm.

“I’m clumsy,” Cas shrugged.

Dean’s eyes were wide. He looked up and noticed the tears falling down Cas’ cheeks.

“Cas,” he whispered, reaching a hand to Cas’ cheek.

“I tripped down the stairs,” Cas sniffled. “I landed on my arms, and then I fell again and hurt my legs.”

Dean’s brow furrowed as Cas continued to cry. Dean reached for the hem of Cas’ slacks and lifted them slightly. There were bruises along his shins as well.

“Cas,” Dean said. His shoulders fell, and all of the sudden he _knew_.

“I’m just clumsy,” Cas whispered.

A tense silence surrounded the two of them. Dean wasn’t sure if he was more angry, scared, appalled, or hurt. Cas, on the other hand, knew for a fact that fear was his main emotion.

“Cas,” Dean finally said. “Let me help you.”

Cas sniffled again, wiped the tears from his face, and shook his head.

“I’m just clumsy,” he said desperately. Dean could hear from how his voice cracked that he wanted nothing more than to believe it himself.

“I want to help you,” Dean whispered, scooting closer to Cas. “I want you to be safe in your own home.”

Again, Cas responded, “I’m just clumsy.”

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, who immediately leaned forward and began to sob into Dean’s shoulder.

“Tell me I can help you,” Dean said. He ran a hand soothingly up and down Cas’ spine. “Let me help you. I need you, Cas. I need you to be safe.”

Cas continued to cry and shake his head.

 

The next day, Cas was not at school.

Neither was Dean.

Neither was Sam.

**Author's Note:**

> Child Helpline International: http://www.childhelplineinternational.org/  
> Child Abuse Hotline Info (USA): https://www.childhelp.org/hotline/  
> Hotline Number (USA): 1-800-4-A-CHILD (1-800-422-4453)
> 
> Please be vocal about any suspicions or concerns having to do with child abuse/neglect.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Be safe!


End file.
